Epilogue: Anchors Aweigh
by madame.alexandra
Summary: In this very au epilogue, the story that was told in the Famous in a Small Town / Stillwater AU series wraps up loose ends and results in a what you would call a happy ending. Natalie's off to college - and for the first time, none of it feels like it was a mistake at all.


_a/n: alas, the finale. two shout-outs to Kate Todd in this chapter._

* * *

Annapolis, Maryland: 2003

Anchors Aweigh

* * *

The drive was nothing – it couldn't even be called a road trip –they were leaving the state to see their daughter, but it was nothing like what had happened in ninety-nine – that _journey,_ that proverbial _quest_ that started them on a reconciliatory path, seemed like a lifetime ago; it seemed like ancient history.

Strange, that so much could change in a few short years.

Her eyes glued to the itinerary on her lap, Jenny pointedly ignored the increasingly dangerous way Gibbs was driving down the streets – she resisted the urge to remind him he was looking for parking, not an errant suspect, and continued memorizing the scheduled events.

"She's going to be _exhausted_ , Jethro," she murmured worriedly. "This has been brutal."

Next to her, finally finding somewhere he could situate the old Dodge Charger, Gibbs snorted.

"S'not like it's the Corps," he drawled. "She can handle it."

Jenny sighed tensely.

"Why do you think anything that isn't the Corps, isn't hard?"

"'Cause I was _in_ the Corps," Gibbs said flatly, with finality.

After a moment of maneuvering, he put the car into park, and gave her a charming smirk. She rolled her eyes, and sat forward, unbuckling, and peering around – he'd snagged a spot on the main strip, next to a meter; good, perhaps that would make it easier to get around. Jenny reached for the map under her itinerary, and Gibbs reached over and smacked her hand lightly.

"You act like you never been here before, Jen," he pointed out. "It's Maryland, not Mars."

Jenny flushed, and tucked the map away; fine, they could let Natalie show them around. Gibbs was right – they weren't in a place that was exactly unfamiliar, but his words struck a curious spot in her heart – probably because she'd always expected to see Natalie off to Mars, _rather_ than Maryland. But – a lot of things had changed since the terrorist attacks two years ago, and Natalie's post-high school decision wasn't exactly something Jenny could ever be disappointed in.

Gibbs looked out the side window a moment, and then glanced in the back seat. He whistled sharply, and Bugsy perked up, wagging her tail eagerly.

"Want to go down by the water and wait for Bug?" he asked the dog seriously.

Bugsy yelped at him happily, and Jenny took a deep breath, tucking her things into her purse as she got out of the vehicle. She rummaged around for her coin purse, tending to the meter while Gibbs pushed a seat forward and got the big, loyal German Shepherd from the back seat.

"I put in for three hours of parking – I can't _believe_ we're getting so little time with her," Jenny said earnestly, coming around the car.

She and Gibbs headed, side by side, to the waterfront, where countless other people milled around. Jenny shared a faint smile with a woman whose eye she happened to catch – a smile of understanding, of minor stress and anticipation.

"It won't be so bad after this," Gibbs said gruffly. "She'll get holidays."

"It isn't the same," Jenny sighed, a small protest. "If she'd gone to Georgetown – "

"She didn't want to go to Georgetown."

"Or even MIT – "

"Jen, this is closer than MIT."

Jenny gave him a withering look. He bore it with grace, and tightened his grip on Bugsy's leash.

"You got to let her go," he said sagely.

Jenny turned, catching his elbow and giving him a sharply raised, slightly amused cocked eyebrow.

"Look who's talking," she drawled quietly.

As if he hadn't been affected by Natalie graduating high school – as if he _hadn't_ given her several stern, harsh reasons why she needed to think hard about her commitment, as if he hadn't moped around NCIS when she left, and waited by the phone like Jenny had, and hung off every letter, and spared no penny to make sure care packages reached her in record time.

Gibbs gave her a serious look, and shook her arm off, leading them towards the benches surrounding a myriad of sculptures that made up a memorial to the evils of the North American slave trade. He said nothing for a moment – he didn't want to admit that he'd at first been wary of Natalie's decision – admitting that conflicted with how much pride he had in telling people where she was.

"She's safe for four years, at least," Jenny said, sitting down next to him near the water. He loosened his grip on Bugsy's leash, and she hopped over, batting at water with her paws. She barked happily.

"Women don't get put on the front lines," Gibbs advised, adding a comforting two cents.

"The only kind of sexism that warms a mother's heart," Jenny laughed wryly.

Gibbs shared a look with her, and looked around, narrowing his eyes in intent observation.

It wasn't that they weren't proud of her. They _were_ – immensely proud, indescribably proud – proud beyond description. It had just been a blindsiding and unexpected change of plans, to say the least; they had all been affected by the events of September eleventh, two thousand and one, but Natalie hadn't mentioned her growing patriotism, and desperate desire to fight the fear that had gripped her country, until she had the offer on the table, and the only thing left was a choice.

It just opened up a world of scary possibilities, of daunting danger – and while Jenny was accustomed to that feeling of apprehension and dread, having grown up around it, feeling it from a parent's perspective was a whole new ballgame – and she expected Gibbs, being the one who actually saw combat, viewed Natalie's future with even more worry.

It was unlikely he'd ever show it, but Jenny knew him; Jenny knew how much he cared about her, and desperately wanted her safe and secure.

She reached over and placed her hand on his knee soothingly; he let it rest there. She lifted her head, her breath catching in her throat. She nodded her head to a narrow street, suddenly flooded with white and glittery gold – sunlight reflecting off polished buttons and brass – and she tightened her grip on his knee.

Gibbs turned his head, straightening.

He wasn't the only father suddenly eagerly looking in that direction.

"You see her?" he asked.

Jenny stood, shaking her head – she wasn't very tall; she wondered if Natalie would be able to spot them; she wondered if she'd recognize Natalie in that sharp getup – when they'd dropped her off, she'd been in denim shorts, and an NCIS t-shirt –

"There!" Jenny squealed, sounding much like a teenage girl. She cupped a hand near her lips. "NATALIE!"

Bugsy cocked his head, ears perking up; it was almost as if he recognized the sound of her name.

The parade crowd started to break, and when she saw Jenny's arm in the air, Natalie made a beeline – an extremely disciplined, formal, and graceful beeline – to the waterfront. The moment she saw who was approaching, Bugsy let out a joyful howl and darted over, stopped only by Gibbs' quick pull on the lease.

After a brief reprimand, though, Gibbs changed his mind. He let Bugsy's leash go slack in his hand.

"Go get our girl, Bugsy," he told her, and the dog took off, nearly tackling Natalie at the halfway point.

He stood slowly, shoulder to shoulder with Jen, watching Natalie neatly crouch down, shoulders back, head high, ribbons shining on her chest, and smile on her lips. He felt a rush of emotion, and Jenny grasped his shoulder again, her hand at her mouth.

"She looks okay," Jenny said huskily. "She doesn't look like she sounded on the phone."

The last time she'd spoken to Natalie – as in, heard her voice, instead of simply read a letter or post card – her daughter had been almost sobbing into the phone that she couldn't do this, that she wanted to come home, that she was a failure, all the while some upperclassmen had been screaming a countdown of her phone time in the background.

Jenny had been frantic, upset, for days; Gibbs, intimately familiar with the nature of military conditioning, had eased her worries only a little with the cool, stoic assurance that her reaction was normal, and so was the aggressive hazing going on – the Naval Academy was turning her into a sailor, not a scientist.

Bugsy at her heels, their daughter came to a stop before them, grinning at them brightly from beneath a pristine white cover. Her eyes shone, her cheeks were flushed healthily, and she held her chin up proudly. From the nameplate on her left side, _Gibbs_ glittered ostentatiously in the sun; gone were Gibbs' battered old dog tags, and tucked neatly around her neck were an impeccably polished pair of her own.

In the final semester of her senior year of high school, Natalie, through her eligibility as the child of a Medal of Honor winner, had applied for an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis. With her repertoire of achievements at Thomas Jefferson, she'd been awarded it immediately, as a principal appointee, and it was with that announcement that she'd shocked her parents: she was turning down MIT, Georgetown, Berkeley, and Yale: she was joining the Navy.

The original shock had come from Natalie's phrasing: _"I'm joining the Navy"_ was not the same as saying _"I've received a prestigious appointment to a premiere military college."_ Before asking any questions, Jenny had point blank refused to let Natalie dare turn down college offers, struck with the sort of identity crisis that would come to her if Natalie didn't end up doing what Jenny had worked for. Gibbs, who followed news on military involvement in the Middle East closely, knew exactly how dangerous things were getting in Afghanistan, and now Iraq, and had told her in no uncertain terms was she going to claim she'd use the military to get free tuition when he'd been stowing money away for her for eighteen years.

Only then had Natalie, startled by their reactions, clarified she wanted to go to Annapolis, at which point Jenny had backtracked slightly; getting an appointment to any military academy was incredibly competitive: each senator got only two choices, there were three wild card picks, the president could give one nomination – et cetera. A majority of the class often came from the ranks of the already enlisted, so Natalie showing them her offer letter was – nothing less than outstanding.

Outstanding but – a hugely unexpected deviation from the firm MIT-and-then-NASA path Natalie had seemed to be firmly committed to.

"I can easily be an engineer, a strategist," she'd said confidently. "This is what my country needs right now. I felt a calling. The military is in my blood. And – we haven't had the Navy represented in this family. Until now."

At that, Jenny had said: "At least she doesn't want to join a nunnery."

Silently, Gibbs brooded that if it would protect her from grubby men and their grubby hands, even if they were super smart prodigies, he'd go for the nunnery.

She said NASA could wait. She said she could get advanced degrees at MIT, or Yale – or anywhere – if she wanted them later. For now, she was going to be Midshipman Fourth Class Natalie Gibbs, academy recruit, class of two thousand and seven.

Despite their astonishment, and their struggle coming to grips with her decision to take the military route rather than the safe, prestigious university route, Natalie's appointment was an honor to them all and a huge accomplishment for her. Standing before them now, she held her hands out wide, grinning.

"I survived!" she cried triumphantly.

Her mother lunged forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Natalie giggled, burying her head in Jenny's shoulder a moment – all around them, parents were getting to see their newly minted children after a harrowing "plebe summer" – the weeks long, pre-freshman year boot camp disguised as orientation.

Pulling back, Jenny gave Gibbs his turn for a hug.

"I knew you would," she said confidently, her eyes blazing.

Natalie laughed, the sound muffled in Gibbs' shoulder as she gave him a tight squeeze.

"Liar," she said good-naturedly. "Dad," she demanded, pulling back. "How often did she think I would quit?"

"Had to stop her from coming up here to get you, after that phone call," Gibbs said solemnly.

Jenny whacked him in the chest with the back of her hand.

" _Traitor_ ," she hissed, flushing. She gave Natalie a sheepish look. "It wasn't that I _doubted_ you – you sounded so distraught," she offered, wincing. Trying to recover, she lifted her chin. "You weren't prepared for the physical stuff, were you?" she asked primly.

Flushing slightly, Natalie reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, loosening a few precarious strands of tightly bound up hair. Humbling herself, she shook her head in the negative; that's why things had been so bad at first. She hadn't been too sporty in high school, or in _life_ , and boot camp was – well, it skipped sporty and went straight to Olympic endurance training.

"So, it got better after that call?" Jenny asked earnestly.

Natalie laughed brightly.

"Not at all," she answered matter-of-factly. "But _I_ got better," she said. "We told ourselves – they can't kill us, and they can't stop the clock," she quoted. She saw the slightly worried look still lingering in her mother's eye, and she sighed. "That was just one bad day, Mom," she assured her. "My drill instructor was in rare form that day." She glanced at Gibbs, and smiled grimly. "You know what I mean," she said.

He arched his eyebrows, and snorted.

"Yeah," he agreed, recalling his worst days at boot camp. His drill instructor had spit on a recruit once, and when the recruit reacted with a flinch, instead of total stoicism, there'd been hell to pay. Still, something about Natalie being treated how drill instructors treated the boys bothered him – then, he thought of Joan Matteson, and he quelled his resentment. Natalie was just as good, just as capable, as any guy out there.

"That your ma, Space?" called a midshipman, touching his hat in respect when Jenny looked his way. Then, he whistled, and smirked at Natalie. Natalie flushed, gave him a glare, and turned back to her parents, rolling her eyes.

"I told them how young you guys are," she said. "They didn't believe me."

"Space?" asked Gibbs.

Natalie nodded.

"That's my company nickname," she said, preening slightly. "I don't have that much liberty, you know – and I'm starving," she hinted.

Jenny and Gibbs looked at each other, and smirked – it as an appropriate nickname, and _Space_ definitely deserved an expensive congrats-ion-surviving-hell-summer meal.

* * *

Historic Annapolis was flooded with clean white uniforms, easily identifying who was just emerging from the grueling summer program all new appointees to the academy had to complete in order to keep their spot.

Natalie found herself in a small restaurant on one of the more hidden avenues, relaxing in air conditioned, indoor seating – she wouldn't have minded the summer patio, but here she could take her cover off. It set next to her glass of lemonade, blending in with a white table cloth. Across from her, in easy view, sat both of her parents, eager to hear about her experience. Bugsy was tied outside, where her attention had been captured by a dog on the patio.

"I don't have anything revolutionary to say," Natalie laughed. "It was boot camp with another name slapped on it – I got ridiculed, I got beaten down, I got dirty, I had to make my bed forty times once because I did it wrong the first thirty nine times, I got a nickname," she listed. She shrugged, sitting back. "And now I can say I did it, and no one can mess with me. It's like being an NCIS agent," she added, eyes glowing.

"Ha," Gibbs snorted. "FLET-C's got nothin' on military training," he corrected dryly.

"Well, then it would be easy for me to end up at NCIS," she fired back primly.

"Oh – now NASA is totally out the window?" Jenny asked, arching her brows.

Natalie leaned back happily, crossing her arms.

"No," she said seriously. "Mommy," she drawled sweetly. "Are you still sad that you didn't get to send a sky writer to Stillwater to tell them all I'm going to MIT?" she teased.

Gibbs snorted. Jenny's draw dropped, and she leaned forward pointedly.

"Natalie, going to the Naval Academy is more than enough reason to brag!" she insisted. "Honestly, getting you out of high school was good enough to stick it to them," she added dryly. "I hope you know I'm proud of you – I swear I am, Natalie, it's just that your whole life, you talked about NASA, and MIT – "

"I know," Natalie placated, holding up her hands. She smiled, remembering the brochures she had tucked away in her drawers back at home; college brochures her mother had eagerly collected for her over the years, always writing her name on them in thick black permanent marker.

She smiled at her mother, tucking hair behind her ears as she leaned forward.

"Do you know who Wendy B. Lawrence is?" she asked.

Jenny shook her head warily.

"Astronaut," Gibbs said, unexpectedly.

Jenny gave him a surprised look. Natalie did, too – but she wasn't too surprised. Gibbs cleared his throat.

"Her father was a Viet Nam POW," Gibbs noted – that's why he knew the name, because he followed military careers, and she'd followed in his footsteps.

"William Lawrence?" Jenny asked suddenly.

Natalie looked at her in surprise. Jenny pursed her lips.

"My father served with him," she said.

Natalie looked delighted.

"Well, Wendy graduated from Annapolis in nineteen eighty-one, the second class to allow women," she informed them smugly. "And do you know what she did next?"

"I'm assuming she became an astronaut," Jenny said, since Gibbs had identified her as such.

"Yes," Natalie confirmed. "She also went on to get a Master's at MIT _and,"_ Natalie paused dramatically, "She's going to be on the next flight crew to go up, the first one after _Columbia_."

Jenny gave Natalie a bleak look – she just had to remind her that if the military didn't kill her, a space shuttle disaster might. Natalie smiled apologetically at the look on Jenny's face.

"At least you're not a grandmother," she quipped.

Gibbs grinned, and looked at Jenny to see how she handled that one. Jenny's lips cracked into a smile, and she laughed, tilting her head back. She shook her head good-naturedly; yes, of all things, she wasn't a grandmother; she was just in her early thirties with a daughter at the Naval Academy.

"Here's the thing," Natalie said. "The Navy can give me a stellar career – and it can even get me interstellar, to use a pun," she joked smoothly. "This is where I want to be. Agent Franks was right, you know; he was always right. The nineties were so good, we got lazy. We thought everyone liked us. And being there, in D.C. when that plane hit," she paused hoarsely, shaking her head. "I'm not the only one who chose this," she reiterated. "And I can use Dad's money for a Master's, or a doctorate – or to buy a house," she listed. "This was the right choice. I'm going to make this country, and myself, better," she said. "Just like Kate was going to," she added.

Jenny smiled softly. Natalie's uniform did bring Kate to mind; Kate Todd, and her never ending support for Jenny back in California; the confidence she'd given Natalie, and in a way, the friends she'd brought her in Tali and Ziva.

Jenny nodded, and Natalie licked her lips.

"So," she said. "What's the gossip – I got the notes you sent with your care packages – that homemade jerky was popular, by the way, Dad," she complimented. "How's Tim?" she asked.

Gibbs scowled at her – he didn't understand what the deal with McGee and his daughter was, even though she'd tried to explain it, but regardless, he didn't like it. Natalie _said_ they were not seeing each other, but she also claimed it was a mere technicality; she didn't want to be in a relationship while she was at the Academy; he was busy starting a career.

Jenny accepted whatever was going on and said nothing; Gibbs wanted to know how ' _not seeing each other_ ' translated into ' _inviting Tim over to hang out in the basement while Gibbs was at work and looking extremely suspicious when caught._ '

"He's good; he stopped by after his first month at NSA," Jenny answered. "He likes it – but I heard through the rumor mill – Agent Sharpe – that he was selected for an Agent position in this round, so we'll see if he takes that offer," she said.

"And you?" Natalie asked.

Jenny hesitated. Gibbs nudged her shoulder.

"They gave her a spot at FLET-C," he answered for her gruffly. "She hasn't accepted."

Natalie gave an undisciplined whine and smacked her hand on the table.

" _Why_?" she demanded, squealing. She gestured between her parents. "It would be like Scully and Mulder except no aliens, and a different agency."

Jenny looked at her blankly and Gibbs, who had diligently watched the X-Files with Natalie over many a Friday night dinner, gave her a dry look, and shook his head slightly.

"What?" Natalie asked, snorting. "You guys are still pretending you're not together?"

Neither of the answered her. Natalie stuck out her tongue aggressively, and then snatched it back in – just in case a higher-up saw her acting a fool in uniform. Gibbs looked at Jen, and tilted his head at Natalie.

"Tell her why you haven't accepted," he ordered.

Jenny flushed a little. She hesitated, and then said carefully:

"I was offered a position as Assistant Director of Cyber crime and intelligence gathering," she said.

Natalie looked stunned.

"With NCIS?"

Looking slightly smug, and proud, Gibbs shook his head imperceptibly. Natalie raised her brows.

"Tell 'er, Jen," Gibbs encouraged.

"With…the Secret Service."

Natalie's jaw dropped open, and her eyes widened.

"Hot damn," she swore. "That's _sweet,_ Mom," she whistled in disbelief. "That's some – that's some prestige," she said weakly.

Jenny nodded, a smile touching her lips – she'd gotten the offer two days before also being offered a position in the NCIS agent pool. She was still unsure what she was going to do. She took a deep breath, leaning forward.

"This is your day," she said, brushing off her accomplishments. "We don't get much time with you Natalie – we can talk about me later."

"You have to tell me which you – "

"Of course," Jenny interrupted. "Later," she insisted.

"You know," Natalie said insightfully, tilting her head. "Your life doesn't have to be all about me anymore," she advised. She gestured down at her outfit; gestured in the direction of the Academy, out the window. "I'm out of your hands."

Jenny shook her head slightly, her smile wry.

"I never minded my life being all about you," she said quietly.

Natalie smiled silently, and after a moment, into the silence, Gibbs drawled:

"I could've done without that tunnel vision for about eight years," he said gruffly.

Natalie burst out laughing, and Jenny hung her head in mock defeat, rolling her eyes and jutting her foot out to kick him under the table. He swore, and gave her a good-natured glare – but that was the point their relationship had reached these days: jokes; _jokes_ about the time they'd lost.

"Okay, okay," Natalie said, still snickering. "What else, what else – is Ziva still okay?"

"Tali said she's stationed in the West Bank, but she's fine. Tony visited Ramallah last month, and Rivka said Ziva told _her_ he had a panic attack every time he heard a scud missile scream. He didn't realized Israelis actually lived like that."

"And Tali? When does she leave for New York?"

Tali was going to college at New York University to study art and psychology. She wanted to be some kind of therapist.

"She and Jess are driving up in two weeks," Jenny answered.

Jess was going to New York to follow Tali. He hadn't decided what he wanted to do yet, and he didn't think college was for him. So he was getting a job, until he got it figured out – but still, Tali was good for him, and he was head over heels for Tali.

Natalie beamed, and Gibbs lifted his hand, ticking off fingers:

"Agent Pride broke his foot chasing a suspect," he said, "Grandpa Jack and Debbie set a wedding date, your cat still terrorizes Bugsy, your mom refuses to take the damn cat – "

"Moo- _om_ ," whined Natalie. "Just let Minerva come live with you," she pleaded.

Natalie's cat, which Gibbs had gotten her after obtaining Jenny's permission, neither of them considering that she'd be going off to college soon, famously hated Bugsy and harassed her constantly. Without Natalie there to mediate, Gibbs wanted Jenny to keep the cat; Jenny insisted she hated it more than the dog did.

"Stop whining, you're a grown woman."

"Share custody of my cat!"

"Babe, I didn't even share custody of _you_!"

Natalie rolled her eyes. Jenny folded her arms, and Gibbs shared a look with his daughter – he'd get her to give in, and both animals would be happy. Natalie looked at him a moment, and she looked down at her glass – she worried that with her gone, and her mother possibly leaving NCIS, her parents would just fade out of each other's lives.

They wouldn't confirm anything was holding them together; Natalie knew they kept each other at arm's length for her sake, so it would never affect her.

She looked back up at them.

"Can you believe how old I am?" she asked, starstruck.

Jenny laughed hoarsely.

"Honey, I can't believe how old _I_ am," she retorted.

Gibbs' lips turned up – he knew how she felt; it wasn't that they felt sixteen and immature anymore, it was that they both felt ages older than they were. At their ages, they should have a ten year old, maybe younger; instead, they were sending their child off to college. Combined, their ages barely put them at about retirement age, and yet a full grown adult sat before them.

Looking at her intently, Gibbs leaned forward, catching her eye.

"You happy, Nat?" he asked seriously – his blue eyes met hers, searching her expression: was she happy here, was she happy with how life had turned out – had she been prepared, by her mother, and by his late involvement, the face the world ahead – on her own?

Natalie swallowed, and looked back at him confidently.

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "I feel like I'm at Starfleet Academy."

Gibbs smirked, and Jenny rolled her eyes – but to Natalie, it was the best way she could describe how things had turned out: she was poised to start adulthood with truly impressive honors; she was self-confident but not arrogant, and in the short summer weeks that had shaken her to the core, she had fallen in love with the Navy, and with all the things she planned to do in the future – and so much of where she was, she owed to her parents, who had, among countless other things, chosen to defy convention, have her, and raise her.

The things that had happened in between – how much did they matter, how unhappy could they make her, when it had all turned out like this?

Placing her hand on her cover, Natalie laughed – she was content with her own dog tags around her neck now; she didn't need them to keep her father close, because he was a constant part of her life now – and the only conflict she had with her mother concerned why, when she'd graduated high school, she'd thought it was so grown up to go get a tattoo – and refuse to divulge where, or what, it was.

* * *

After lunch; after shopping, and coffee, and catching up, stories of boot camp – showing off Bugsy, and spending a moment of longing in the car she wouldn't be allowed to drive again until she was on liberty or a midshipman first class, Natalie was required to report back to the Academy – which meant the end of Parents' Weekend for her mother and father, and the real start of her college career.

The stood at the waterfront again, Bugsy whining softly, almost musically, at their feet, and despite her pride, despite her relief that Natalie was happy, successful – on her way to great things – Jenny felt tears pricking at her eyes; she couldn't stop the tightness in her chest from making her voice shake.

"If you ever feel like giving up, remember all that stuff you said at lunch," Jenny said hoarsely. "This is in your blood. My father fought in Viet Nam, Grandpa Jack was in World War Two and Korea – Max did 'Nam and Desert Storm," she listed, "Dad did desert storm," she added. "You're really strong, Natalie. You can do anything."

Natalie tilted her head.

"You forgot something," she said mildly. "You forgot yourself."

"I wasn't in the military," Jenny said.

"You raised a child by yourself for years," Natalie said softly. "You worked full time and went to school and gave me the best of everything – you gave me your life."

Her breath catching, Jenny waved her hand.

"Oh, well, Natalie – "

"No, you did. Acknowledge it," Natalie said fiercely. "I liked heroes growing up. I liked Buffy, and Scully, and Princess Leia – and Uhura, Wonder Woman, and Hermione," she listed. "But I didn't need them. I had you. I admired those women. I'm glad they're there, for little girls. But I didn't need them," she repeated. "I had every heroine in one in _you_."

"Natalie," Jenny said again, her voice cracking with tears.

She put her face in her hands, her eyes welling up. Natalie laughed softly.

"Aww, Mom," she drawled, reaching out to hug her. She looked up at her father a little helplessly, and he just smiled at her, his jaw tight. He was sure that meant the world to Jen – he remembered what she was like when Natalie was a baby; constantly worried, constantly second guessing herself, constant doubt – and none of her worst fears had been realized. Even in the turmoil their bad relationship had caused, how it had eventually hurt Natalie, she had turned out – _better_ than okay.

Jenny sucked in her breath, wiping her eyes – black mascara smudged her fingers – and she pulled away, holding Natalie's cheeks in her palms. She leaned forward and kissed her temple, then resting her forehead against her a moment.

"I wouldn't change a thing," she said hoarsely.

"Oh, c'mon, Mom, you'd – "

"No," Jenny said firmly, stubborn eyes on Natalie. "I wouldn't change one single thing about you, or how I got you."

Disarmed, a little shell-shocked by the notion that Jenny would chose again to have a baby at sixteen, to endure what she had, Gibbs reached out to put a hand on her lower back, and swallowed hard; Natalie licked her lips.

"You wouldn't?" she asked, something hopeful flickering in her eyes. "Anything."

Jenny caught her meaning; Natalie's eyes flicked to Gibbs.

"It's hard to say that so confidently," she said huskily, "knowing that I hurt you, knowing that you missed out on your father – and I don't mean to hurt him again," she said, ensuring Gibbs knew she was talking to him. "I can't explain how I feel," she said.

Natalie touched her hand, and looked at Gibbs.

"Would you?" she asked. "Change anything," she repeated.

Gibbs took his time to think – would he? He knew now he had never been as ready as he thought the way, back then, for fatherhood, for marriage, for a lifetime commitment, for utter selflessness. Knowing how things were now, how good of a relationship he had with Natalie, how solid and firm his rapport with Jenny was, their strong bond forged over the years - he knew that, and sometimes he dreaded even considering how badly thinks might have turned out if he and Jenny, in all their immaturity, in all their problems, had tried to make it work back then.

What would have hurt more, a lifetime of fighting, of divorce, legal battles, PTSD, for Natalie to witness – or the painful few months that it took them to sort out their reunion, and get on track?

Gibbs cleared his throat quietly.

"No," he said.

Natalie bit her lip.

"Even – Shannon and Kelly?"

Struck by what he'd just said, his hand slipped on Jen's back a moment, and she said something quietly, reprimanding, to Natalie; but he knew Natalie didn't mean did he wish he could bring them back – he wished them life, for their own sakes, as much as his; she meant would he chose not to have them, if he could have spent his life with Jenny.

"We can't change it, Bug," he said, changing gears diplomatically. "We just get through it all."

Natalie nodded.

Jenny's hands slipped off her cheeks as she moved to hug her father, holding him impossibly tightly for a moment. He kissed her temple, then reached to ruffle her hair – and stopped, lest he mess up her bun and get her in trouble with her instructor.

Natalie stepped back from them, and she crouched to say her goodbyes to Bugsy.

"You take care of them, okay, you big lug?" she ordered affectionately, kissing the beloved dog's snout. "Run through Mom's legs, like you did on Independence Day, so she falls into Dad's lap," she advised. "And when Dad's in the basement for days, bark at him, so he calls Mom for a drink – like on Labor Day," she trailed off, snuggling the dog. "Take care of them, Bugsy," she said again, whispering, standing back up.

She straightened herself. She smiled at her mother.

"I love you so much, Natalie Winter," Jenny said.

Natalie nodded, and lifted her eyes to her father's. She raised her hand, and held it near her head – this would be, in a way, her first official salute; again, in four years, when she was commissioned, she'd choose him as her first one post-graduation.

Gibbs raised his hand too, his arm still slung loosely around Jenny.

" _Non sibi sed patriae_ ," he said gruffly – the Navy's saying; he'd memorized it for her. He jerked his hand down quickly – _not for self, but for country_.

She jerked her hand down in a mirror movement, nodding sharply.

" _Semper fidelis,"_ she returned.

With a silent goodbye to the both of them, she turned to go, back straight, heading with her company back towards the academy – and Gibbs couldn't resist a parting jab at her choice of branch; he yelled:

"Oorah, Sailor!"

Jenny poked him, hissing, and Natalie raised her hand in acknowledgement – with any luck some old commander would give her hell about it later. Gibbs grinned – and after she retreated, when she was a speck, when she was gone, and it was just them, he turned slowly to Jenny, his eyebrows raised.

Touching her jaw, she looked at him a moment, stunned; she pushed her hand back through her red hair, shaking it down her back – it was hot, sticky; a memorable day in August, when the full weight of letting Natalie go, sending her off, and out of the house, seemed to be as heavy in the air as the humidity, and Jenny couldn't believe this was happening – she couldn't believe the long, grueling years suddenly seemed to have snapped past, faster than a speeding bullet.

"She'll be home at Thanksgiving, Jen," Gibbs said, breaking the silence.

Her lips pursed. She nodded, but she felt like it didn't register.

"Fifteen, Jethro," she said, barely above a whisper. "Since I found out, since I had her – my whole life, since I was _fifteen._ She's – she's okay. She lived through it," she paused, gesturing between her chest and his. "We all made it."

Gibbs nodded – in its own way, it was like a war; fighting the stigma, fighting to raise her, fighting to come to terms with their bad communication and their self-serving decisions – fighting, always fighting – and now the battle had ended; the battle was her own person – the battle legally belong not to them but to the United States Navy.

"What's it feel like?" he asked Jenny gruffly.

Bugsy nudged his legs, laying down at his feet. She whined, and then lay her head down, missing her friend.

"It feels," Jenny began, looking around – thick summer wind whipped at her hair, and she pursed her lips, at a loss for words. "It feels different than I thought," she admitted. "For so long, I thought I'd feel relieved to have her grown, have her safe, smart, in college – but I feel – lost."

Gibbs nodded, his face unreadable. She looked at his chest, and up at his face.

"What about you?"

He shrugged. He'd been so uninvolved for so much of Natalie's life, he didn't feel the separation like she did – and because of the rigor of military academies, he knew it was twice as hard to adjust to Natalie leaving the nest – he felt proud, he felt content, he felt like they had done something good with their lives, like he had won at something, finally, and that things weren't over.

He grit his teeth a moment.

"Feels like it was all worth it," he decided finally.

Jenny nodded. She bit her lip, and she leaned forward, and put her head on his chest. The world felt silent for a moment – her heart slammed against her ribs shakily; what would it be like, with Natalie locked away at the academy, with herself and Gibbs, alone – alone to live their lives.

"For so long, she's how I defined myself," Jenny said softly.

Gibbs stepped back, looking at her intently.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

She thought about it, her hair in her eyes again. She crossed her arms, rubbed her shoulders. She had never considered life after Natalie. She had always been so – well, it didn't matter: here it was. She was not a normal mother; her life was not beginning its decline as she gave her daughter to the world – she was young; she and Gibbs both were.

"I've been thinking," she said. "I never really knew what I wanted to do with my life. I was so young back then….I just knew I wanted to go to a fancy school and get the hell out of Stillwater. And Jethro…I did that. I did both of those things. In a strange way, and it's not normal the order I did it in, or that it turned out that way, but…Natalie never actually ruined anything about my life. And now she's got her whole life ahead of her. And so do I," she paused, and glanced at him. "So do you, Jethro," she finished softly. "It's so…strange."

She was quiet a long moment.

"I'm going to take the Secret Service position," she said with quiet confidence.

She wanted something that was hers, her life – wholly individual to her. The military was Gibbs' thing, the Navy – NCIS – was Kate's, was Natalie's. This was a new opportunity, one that called her name – offered her a chance to start a whole new lifetime – it was strange, having a child so young; she felt like she was given two separate existences.

She felt, unexpectedly, like she had it all.

She knew her case was an outlier, that so many in her position struggled, but she didn't let herself think of that right now.

She looked up at Gibbs.

"I'm going to figure out who I am," she said.

Gibbs smiled at her, a lopsided, familiar smirk. Despite the grey hair, the lines on his face – he looked for a moment like he used two, when they were young, when Stillwater was their whole world.

The thing was, they _were_ still young.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked him softly.

He studied her a moment. He said:

"I'm going to take you to dinner, Jen."

The statement hinted at so much more and she thought – here they stood, years later, neither of them quite yet thirty-five, older, wiser, in the prime of their own lives, and ready, perhaps, to figure out the things they'd dreamed of all those years ago, when they'd been two kids in Stillwater, tangled up in a hayloft, swearing they were going to get out.

* * *

"On seven seas we learn, Navy's stern call  
Faith, courage, service true, With honor over, honor over all."  
Naval Academy Fight Song, 1997 Version

* * *

 _Well, I hope you've enjoyed the ride!_  
 _feedback always appreciated!_

 _-alexandra_  
 _story #172_

 _p.s. you can all pick for yourselves what Natalie's tattoo is / where it is. :)_


End file.
